morning I drink a cup of tea, the "Sweet Dreams" is. But on the bumpy bus ride back to Puerto Lopez is not to think of sleep. On the bus to Portoviejo then twice as many people in there as can fit. I stand during the first hours, but this is not a disadvantage in the junk.
Portoviejo like me, for here the sun shines. However, the suburb consists of only noise machine shops and factories. This time my instincts lead me in the wrong direction, I need a taxi to the city. The Hotel Conquistador "I have found there but themselves. To Portoviejo imagine you think of a horrible average city in a developing country. As for the mess of power lines, could be learned here, however, still some of Delhi. In an hour I had to eat or a decent place, yet an open Internet Cafe found. Where I type these lines, finally, the noise of honking cars competing and other street sounds to the roar of an antediluvian air condition. The noise of a radio goes under completely.
I read that one suggested by the Dresdner Couchsurfing group, in the future before the meeting together to donate blood to go. Another thinks he is shaman, and rate without spiritual care, for supply of blood, as this leg hold a piece of soul.
evening I drink red melon juice. Porto Viejo presented unchanged, except that the city is now as dead bitten by a vampire.
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